For You
by Drea Jackman
Summary: Sylar's tried so hard for so long, but she's never really understood why.


**For You**

**Title:** For You  
**Author:** Drea Jackman  
**Rating:** PG  
**Characters/Pairings:** Sylar/Claire  
**Summary:** Sylar's tried so hard for so long, but she's never really understood why.  
**Spoilers:** Nothing past 3x02 – you'll know the reference when you see it.  
**Disclaimer:** Alas, I don't own Heroes nor any of the characters used in this fic. Stictly non-profit fun.  
**Word Count:** 4322  
**Notes:** My first ever Heroes fic, it kinda wrote itself once I'd got started. Please feel free to read and review ... oh, and be gentle! *whimper*

***

He hated this.

Standing beside the Company issue car, Sylar gritted his teeth in silence. It was yet another task forced upon him by Noah Bennet, and one which he knew, under any other circumstance, would have set his partner on high alert. Nowadays, he wasn't afforded the same level of concern as he once was. What was it Bennet had called him, neutered?

Already feeling the dull throb of rage building in the pit of his stomach, Sylar crossed his arms tightly, burying his apparently harmless fists in the folds of the black jacket he preferred. It was then that he sensed her. He lifted his head in the direction he knew her to be coming from already. Instinctively, rage that had been so close to boiling over, bubbled away to nothing in an instant.

As Claire approached, attention focused on stuffing some folder deep inside her backpack, he allowed his eyes to settle upon her. He'd been Noah's errand boy in this manner for quite a while, but no matter how many times he fulfilled the duty, it never failed to twist the knife buried uncomfortably deep within his chest. In reality, he supposed that's why Bennet favoured the idea, a fitting punishment for his daughter's attacker.

Claire finished fumbling with her backpack and finally looked up as she slung a single strap over her shoulder. Immediately her posture deflated at the sight of him. Sometimes she didn't know what annoyed her most, the fact that her father insisted she have an escort from time to time, or the fact that he was equally as insistent that it be him. With a sigh, she straightened up and put on her game face.

'Sylar.' Her tone was flat, but the disdain was evident in her expression.

Sylar remained silent, waiting for what he knew was coming next.

'Why are you here?'

'Must we do this every time, Claire?' The words could have been taken for sarcasm, even argumentative, had he not sounded so bored.

Her eyes flashed angrily. Without a word she slammed her backpack into his chest and stalked off to the passenger door, absently enjoying the small huff he gave on impact.

Most of the journey was made in silence, though it wasn't for want of Claire trying to bait him into conversation. There were many things she hated about the situation her loving father continued to put her in, but equally there were certain perks involved. Her favourite over the last month or so in particular, was seeing how far she could push him. This time he wasn't giving her any ground, which made her even more determined.

'So, what's up with you today?' she asked innocently.

Sylar remained focused on the road ahead, but was perfectly aware of his grip tightening on the steering wheel. 'What do you mean?'

'You, coming here, AGAIN,' she drawled, rolling her eyes. 'Don't you have any say anymore, or does my Dad call all the shots?'

Again, he remained apathetic and held his silence.

'Seriously,' she huffed, 'isn't it bad enough that you found your way into our lives in the first place? Now you have to run after the Company like some kind of sick puppy?'

Her tone was much more harsh than she'd intended, and in that instant she saw a brief change flicker across his expression. Had that just struck home? Just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished from sight.

'Your father just wants you safe, Claire,' he said calmly before lowering his voice to a bare whisper, 'I want you safe.'

He kept his eyes on the road, absently noting the lack of civilisation in their surroundings. His job today was simple, just get her from A to B, no fuss, business as usual. So why did it feel like it was taking every bit of restraint he had to hold himself together on this particular day?

Claire sighed, evidently having missed his latter admission. 'Agent Bennet commands it, is that it? God, you gotta be hating this.'

'Does it seem that way to you?' he countered.

There was a brief pause where it seemed as though she didn't know quite how to react. His words had been calm, reserved, same as they had been all damn day, so why was it that this got under her skin so quickly? 'Stop the car,' she said in a tone that mirrored his.

When Sylar didn't respond, it grew to a firm demand, 'Sylar, stop the damn car!'

Dutifully, Sylar obeyed with a mild sigh denoting dread.

The car came to a sudden halt in the nearest lay-by. There was no one for miles, the stretch of road was near empty this time of day. Only a few trees grew just off the roadside, the sun overhead beating down on nothing but dry dirt and dust, and them.

Before the keys had even stopped swinging in the ingition, she was up and out of the car, door slamming closed behind her. With a twinge of regret, he followed suit.

By the time he reached her, still keen to keep his distance, she had approached the nearby trees. 'What now?' he asked.

Claire stalked toward the largest of the trees, eyes blazing. She took two steps in one direction and stopped abruptly, seemingly unsure of where she was going with this. In truth, she had no clue, nothing to go on but impulse and shear anger.

'God, I hate you!' she cried, quickly regaining her composure. 'What's wrong with you?'

Sylar simply stared at a now fascinating patch of nothing on the ground between him and Claire, thankful that she was still a good few paces away.

'All dutiful and obedient now, is that it? My father yells jump, you ask how high? Like you're his errand boy?'

His skin crawled at her pitying tone, but he didn't move his eyes from the same spot on the ground.

Claire turned back on the crescent she'd made before him, eyes fixed on his downward gaze. 'What's wrong Sylar? Haven't you had enough of screwing with my freakshow life?'

His brow furrowed deeply, but no verbal response came.

Clearly at breaking point, Claire stomped toward him, stopping only when they stood toe to toe. As he loomed above her, his eyes still transfixed by the same insignificant emptiness, she fumed.

'Now I don't even deserve to be looked at?'

Silence.

'Look at me!' she yelled, not caring how far her controlled demeanour had slipped.

'Claire,' he began quietly, eyes unmoving.

'Sylar!'

She hadn't been aware that she'd even moved, so filled with anger had she been. Her right wrist was now held immobile in the grip of his left hand, a thwarted attempt at striking him across the face. Suddenly Claire felt pangs of fear undulate through her. Things may be different now, but she still remembered exactly what the man standing before her had been capable of.

'My name is Gabriel,' he replied finally. 'I haven't been _that_ man in almost two years now, Claire.'

It was Claire's turn not to respond. Instead, she continued to feel the force in his grip, and watched the careful play of emotions flickering in his eyes as he finally brought them up to meet hers.

'Have you any idea about the man I am today, Claire?'

His eyes were stern, but she refused to let him win and held his gaze evenly.

'Stop doing that,' she said, now calmer than she had been since he'd picked her up earlier.

'Stop what?' His tone was unapologetic.

'Stop saying my name like that,' she paused, biting back his name for fear of enraging him any further. He was right, it had been nearly two years and still she couldn't bring herself to call him anything other than that name. 'It's getting old.'

Sylar couldn't help the smirk that played on his lips. Sometimes she couldn't help but show her age, but he wouldn't be deterred.

'What would you rather I call you?'

Claire stared for a second, unsure where he was going with this.

'Ma'am?' he ventured, smirk still evident. This was the closest he'd come to letting himself slip back into old ways in a long time. It felt like playing with fire, but he couldn't stop himself from pushing further. He lowered his face toward hers, eyes blazing as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. 'Perhaps you'd prefer, Princess?'

Claire was thankful he'd finally released her wrist, fumbling back a few steps she stood a little over a foot away. She was uneasy about meeting his angry gaze straight away. Grateful for the firm tree standing at her back, she took a moment to compose herself, feeling her own anger beginning to spread.

'I'm sorry, did that hit a nerve?' he asked, voice deceptively caring and not at all worthy of the glare he fixed her with. 'Just like Sylar to be so two-faced,' he thought, berating himself.

'How dare you...'

'I'm sorry, how dare I?' Sylar interrupted. 'Tell me, Claire, who am I?'

Claire scowled, furious that he seemed to think he had the high ground.

'That's what I thought.' He straightened up, crossing his arms again.

'What gives you the right?' she asked, one hand still flat on the tree at her back. 'You took everything from me!'

'Poor girl,' he said. It was his turn to sound pitying. 'Don't tell me you really have no idea. Or maybe you just don't wanna face it.'

Her eyes narrowed, seething at him. 'You took the most important thing I had from me, you turned me into this person.'

'For almost two years, I've taken everything you've thrown at me, done everything your father asked of me to try and make amends. It'll never be enough, I see that now.'

'I don't need you in my life, why keep playing this game?' Claire's eyes came level with his.

'If I'm still the bad guy, what does that make you?' He paused briefly. This wasn't the road he'd ever intended going down with her. He'd been the monster, the one to put the fear of God in her, made her suffer and she hadn't been the only one. Sylar knew he really didn't have any right to be pushing the way he was, but what did he have to lose?

'Excuse me?'

'Look at me, Claire. Really look at me. When in the last two years have I ever been anything but your rock?'

Claire snorted. She hadn't meant to, but she was so angry that she couldn't hide her amusement at the realisation. She'd never give him the satisfaction of seeing it, but he was right even if the idea shocked her.

'I've been a monster, conquered my demons, hell I've given my life for you more times than I can remember and it's still not enough for you is it?' he spat at her.

She felt small. Her anger subsided as she realised that in all that time, she'd never seen this posture from him. It dawned on her then how truly submissive he'd been. Shame trickled into her like a sickening poison. And now that man was gone, all because of her constant pushing. Now she just wanted him back again.

'I fought to become something better, I changed because of what I did to you. You've only ever made it your purpose to make me suffer, delighted in my guilt, my pain,' Sylar trailed off. Taking a step closer, he continued, 'It was never about that for me. What does that say about you, Princess?'

'Please! You had to or they'd have killed you before now. You've never done anything that wasn't for you,' Claire countered.

The growl that emanated from him startled her. Too far, she'd pushed too far and she knew it.

'Everything,' Sylar began, voice dangerously low, 'for you!'

He stalked toward her and she flinched, clearly afraid of the monster she thought she'd unleashed. His features softened, he hadn't intended to frighten her, not again. He found himself reaching out a hand, not daring to touch her, it hovered over her right shoulder. She'd broken his gaze the second the growl had torn itself from his throat, now fixed on his outstretched hand.

'I'm sorry, Claire,' Sylar said honestly. He'd tried a million times to get the words out just right. 'I never meant for you to be hurt, or afraid, not like this.'

Claire's eyes slowly traveled up the length of his arm, pausing at shoulder height to take a deep breath. Once she was sure she could project her usual hard exterior, she allowed her eyes to meet his once more.

'I was just another victim for you. What's the big deal? You stuck around, did my father's bidding for what, to get your final kicks at making me suffer?'

'Far from it. You really don't understand what you've done to me, do you?'

'I know you've killed for them. Stand here now and tell me you're so different from the monster that attacked me,' she accused.

'I've done what I had to in order to protect you, they're still out there you know. Everything I've done has been to keep you safe. Your father may not see me as anything other than a monster, but he's been only too happy to use that to protect his little girl – and I've let him.' His head lowered, genuine remorse for not only what he'd done, but what he'd continued to allow himself to be used for ever since. 'Don't tell me you haven't seen it.'

She sighed, a little defeated and still unsure how to treat the situation. Sylar was right, he had always been there when her father hadn't. She'd always complained about his presence, usually silent, but always efficient in performing his duty to protect her. She'd watched him die before now, and being honest the first time it had felt satisfying. Perhaps not that he'd died, how could she ever forget the ability he'd taken from her? No, more that he'd suffered for what he'd done to her. He had stalked her, attacked her, stolen from her and now as a result of the guilt he carried, Sylar was theirs, putting himself between her and danger, almost always being hurt in the process – and he did it without complaint.

'Why me?' she asked cautiously.

Sylar's expression looked more human than she'd ever seen. No more masks, and Claire hoped, no more lies. He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye, now deliberately looking downward to avoid it. She tilted her head slightly, trying to figure out if the emotions playing across his face, poorly hidden, were self-loathing or shame. Perhaps a war between the two.

'Don't ask me that, Claire,' His voice pleaded, not at all the response she'd been expecting.

'Why?' she dared to ask again, this time taking all the accusation from her tone. It actually sounded like she cared to spare his feelings, hearing her voice in her own ears, Claire surprised herself.

Chest tight, it was all he could do to push the air out enough to form the words. Why had he let it get this far? 'Please, you can't....'

'If I say I believe you, that I've seen what you've gone through for me … if I tell you I can't apologise for being as harsh, even though I've seen you change, not yet,' Claire fumbled against the tree, straightening up slowly to her full height. Her breath came in regular waves, long and slow, keeping a tight reign on her emotions. 'Would that make me just as much to blame?'

Sylar's eyes flew to hers, head already moving slowly from side to side as if he couldn't quite register why she'd think such a thing of herself. 'Don't think that,' His voice was whisper-soft as he tried to reassure her. 'I did those things, how could you ever be responsible for that?'

'You say I'm the reason, that everything you've continued to do has been for me, to keep me safe. If that's true, then it's my fault we're here, like this,' Her tone was apologetic, almost ashamed herself. Was it true, had she knowingly let him continue to fulfil his debt of guilt at the cost of his redemption?

Claire inhaled deeply, all the rage from before now a dull throb in the pit of her stomach. She'd carried her hatred of him a long time, it felt strange to have it subside. Even made her feel a little more human. She looked him over for a second and thought about it again. The tall figure standing over her, so submissive in stance, he had made her feel. She exhaled slowly, almost deliberately testing him.

'I swore I'd keep you safe,' he breathed, eyes closing as he felt her sweet, warm breath brush his jawline.

Stance faltering, he let his hand move forward, resting it against the cool bark of the tree. Bracing himself, his chest heaved, breath coming silently in short, but deep gasps. It was no use, he still felt like he was being suffocated.

'Tell me?' she whispered, pouring every last ounce of innocence into the request in an attempt to convince him.

Sylar stilled himself, mind in overdrive trying to come up with something. Some way, any way of handling the situation he now regretted allowing himself to fall into. What was he supposed to say? Tell her that she was all he'd lived for in the beginning, every step down the path of redemption forced by the urge to overcome the hunger of his demon and become a better person – one she could bring herself to look at without hate or disdain. That when he wasn't near her, his every thought was of her, aching until he was in her presence again. Or how it destroyed him every time she called him by that name.

'Why do you care?' he asked finally.

Claire didn't respond verbally, instead her right hand came up, gripping the arm he'd used to brace himself against the tree. Even through the fabric of his jacket, she could feel it tremble. What in the world was there about her that was so terrible it reduced a man like Sylar into a defeated, trembling shell. In the past she'd been happy to see him as many things, but this she realised, wasn't one of them.

'You can tell me,' her voice soothed.

With the last of his resolve crumbling into dust, Sylar didn't dare open his eyes. Her gesture in itself was enough to send his mind spinning. In another life he'd have been able to enjoy the her intimacy, but in this one he'd only ever felt guilty for craving it. His whole body fought to reel back away from her, how he managed to stay escaped him. He could feel the heat radiating from her in waves, so close now that he could almost taste her.

'Gabriel,' she uttered, voice barely a whisper as it left her lips.

Sylar's eyes rose to meet hers suddenly, and Claire was startled by how darkened they had become. The look was smouldering, as if the inward battle that burnt within him since the car had finally just been won. His resolve was hanging by a thread, but it was ultimately the constant belief that he'd never be worthy that kept him frozen. So much so that it was Claire who felt moved to take the initiative.

Swiftly, she leaned closer and brushed her lips against his in a chaste kiss, again testing him. She glanced upward to see his brow furrowed, dark orbs now hidden behind smooth lids. She closed her eyes and revelled in the feeling of power it gave her, to know that she'd reduced him to this. It was intoxicating. Gently she kissed him again, their little world silent and still until she swept her tongue over first his lower lip, then his upper. It was then that her world shattered into a million tiny pieces.

The arm to her right side left the trunk to splay across her lower back, pulling her roughly up against him as he stepped forward. Her upper body was pinned between his chest and the tree behind. Once upon a time she may have been frightened, heck this morning if anyone had told her this would happen, she'd have laughed in their face, but not now. She gripped onto his upper arms, needing the support to steady herself when she became dizzy.

Sylar kissed her breathless, free hand carefully threading fingers through her golden hair. He tilted her head gently to let him deepen the kiss. Finally, the need for air forced coherent thought back into his head and he broke away, eyes still closed as his fingertips traced down her delicate features – over hooded lids and their long lashes, the smooth curve of her cheek, silken lips which had actually claimed his first – none of it would be forgotten.

'Why?' he begged quietly, seemingly unaware of the role-reversal the question placed on him.

'I could ask you the same question, but we're not answering that one today, are we?' Claire replied hotly, quickly gathering herself together. He was mind-blowing!

The tense silence between them was shattered by the loud ringing from her jeans. Taking the cellphone from her pocket, she held it up to see the display without answering.

'Your father,' Sylar guessed looking disappointed.

'I love him,' she said simply. 'He may have lied to me in the past, but he only ever did it to protect me … mainly from you.'

He lowered his head in defeat. 'I understand.'

'This,' she lifted her arms gesturing to their present situation, 'it'd destroy him.'

The ringing stopped.

'You don't have to explain it to me, Claire. I may have been played by Angela, but I do understand what it must mean to have a parent who cares about you.' He turned and started to walk back toward the car, taking off his jacket as he went.

Claire's heart sank. A little over eighteen months ago, her father had passed along the revelation that Gabriel Gray had not in fact been born a Petrelli. Her grandmother had been grasping at straws to protect her eldest grandchild and Sylar had been the strongest weapon she could have brought to the fold. Much as it must have pained him, he'd continued to protect her and do as Bennet asked, though she'd never understood why.

Taking a deep breath, and shoving the phone back into her pocket, she paced after him quickly, trying to catch up to his long strides.

'Wait!'

Sylar didn't respond.

'We're back to this are we?' she thought as she finally caught up to him, grabbing at his wrist to force him to stop.

It was then that Sylar glanced down, still surprised by her willingness to lay a hand on him even then. He looked at her expectantly. What else could she possibly want? Her decision was already made, she couldn't go against her father and at this point. Despite what had just happened, he still wasn't even entirely sure she'd want to either.

'Wait,' she gasped. She knew he was waiting for her to say something else, but she couldn't find the words, didn't know how they could explain what just happened. Nothing seemed fitting, but leaving it like this wasn't the answer.

'Say it again, Claire,' Sylar said smoothly.

Claire blinked.

Sylar twisted his wrist in her grip, turning his palm upward to meet hers. He stared at it absently for a moment, a small smirk tugging at his lips. 'Say my name again, please?'

Now she just felt silly. He recognised her awkwardness, and for the first time she could ever remember, offered her a smile. How was this meant to go now? Confess her undying love for him, leap into the back seat of her father's car with him, forgetting everything that had happened between them? She didn't even know what this was yet, but she knew what it was not. Lifting her face toward his, she offered him a slightly relieved smile, appreciating not being asked anything more complicated.

'Gabriel,' Claire offered, only hoping it'd be enough for him, 'I don't hate you.'

His smile faded away as his expression seemed to grow contented. He squeezed her hand lightly before letting it drop back down by her side, moving it back to the jacket he held between them at waist height. Her response wasn't a confession, or some fairytale happy ending that given their history, would have made him think she'd been abducted by aliens and replaced by some cheerleading clone. It was a fresh start for them, and in reality, that's all he ever wanted – a chance to show her who he'd become.

'Good enough for me.'

Claire sighed her relief and with an equally contented nod, started back toward the car. Sylar fell into step behind her. As she entered at the passenger side, he stopped to throw his jacket onto the back seat.

'You're late, your father's gonna kill me,' he joked as he got in and reached for his seat belt.

Claire smiled, 'I'll cover for you.'

Sylar turned to look her over, eyebrows slightly raised in surprise as he turned the key in the ignition. 'You'd do that for me?' he ventured as the start of the engine died down.

She grinned inwardly, realising that following their conversation, it may not seem like much. Certainly not when compared with the beatings he'd taken or the deaths he'd suffered for her, but this was a gesture that meant just as much to Gabriel Gray and Claire Bennet figured she could handle that.

'For you.'

***


End file.
